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Ron Cruger
The President's "to-do" list
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          It was 11:15 p.m. and the President of the United States was still at his desk in the Oval Office.
          The pair of U.S. Marines were still in formation outside the windows, in the garden, always on alert to defend the President if need be.
          The President had been at the desk since 9:30 p.m. His wife had walked into the office and told him she would be going to bed, “Don’t work too long dear, you need your sleep.”
          “Thanks, love. I’ll be there shortly.”
          The President gave her a brief kiss on the lips and she left for the presidential bedroom. She was used to going to bed without him.
          The leader of the free world slipped out of his shoes and placed his feet under the desk. He reached to the far right hand side of the desk and grabbed his five inch by seven inch personal calendar and notebook.
          He rifled through the pages until he arrived at his “to do” list. He took pen in hand.
          His thoughts were, “Better I write these things down, so I don’t forget to tend to any of these areas.”
          Pen in his left hand, he began writing down the national and world-wide matters which were his responsibility to correct, improve, begin action or finalize. He knew that what he would write would be a list of earthly problems that would be his responsibilities. He silently acknowledged that only he could take responsibility for the outcome of these events. This was his job.
          He leaned backwards and took a deep breath and then went forward. He looked at the battery operated clock on his desk. It read 11:25 p.m.
          He decided to number his responsibilities.
          He wrote the numeral one.




























The President put his pen down and rubbed his eyes. He checked the clock. It was 1:45 a.m. He stretched both arms above his head then turned out the desk lamp. He walked towards the Oval Office door and just before opening it he turned back towards his desk. On top of the desk was his five by seven personal calendar and notebook, which contained his “to do” list.
      He stood there for a moment, staring at the top of his desk.
      Then he walked slowly down the hallway, nodded to the Secret Service man by the elevator and thought, “Tomorrow’s going to be a busy day.”
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